Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. In case that was not clear.

Emma slammed her foot on the brakes a moment before collision. "Woah, sorry Regina," she announced, rolling down the window to greet the Queen's terrified expression head-on. "Didn't see you there. All that black, you know...you blend in."

Regina took only a moment to recover from the shock, before replying scathingly, "you need to get the brakes on that...that...yellow metal monstrosity inspected, Miss Swan."

Emma shrugged. "No, really. My fault." Regina had hardly managed to step out of the way before Emma took off once again down the street, moving so quickly that the Queen's perfectly manicured hair was completely mussed in the wind her car created.

"Must you always do that?" Snow asked, not turning around from where she stood in the window of her apartment as Emma walked through the door and dropped her keys on the counter.

"Do what?" Emma asked innocently.

Snow turned around, curling her fingers more tightly around the cup of coffee she held in her hands. "You know 'what.' That's the third time this week you've almost hit Regina with your car."

"Not true!" Emma protested defensively. "Not that first time-remember? I only crashed into the hedge around her yard."

"Yes," Snow agreed in a frighteningly level voice, "and there's still a gaping hole in the middle of it. Isn't there some other outlet for your frustration?"

Emma shrugged. "I suppose I could try taking apart the toaster again."

Snow nearly choked on her coffee. "Absolutely not! Unless you're planning to pay for a new one this time."

"What can I say?" Emma asked. "It's fun, I'm not hurting anyone, I'm getting pretty good at it..." she trailed off, thinking for a moment before adding, "...Regina looks like a terrified raccoon until I hit the brakes..."

Snow shook her head sadly. Her eyes took on that faraway look that disappointed mothers often got before grounding their children. "Here's an idea. Why not spend a little more time with your son? That'll still annoy Regina, and it's a little healthier for you...not to mention fighting with those wooden swords is the closest thing to a sport that either of you have done in a while..."

Emma, who was digging through the drawers in Snow's kitchen, whipped out a spoon and brandished it at her mother accusingly. "Hey! Chasing the mayor with my car is a sport, too. It's like catch-and-release fishing."

Snow rolled her eyes. "Well, if it were a sport, one good thing would come of it..." When Emma looked mildly confused, her mother continued, "we'd get to go watch you at the Olympics!"

Emma sighed, dropping her spoon on the counter with a loud "clink" and reaching once again for her keys. "That's it. I'm going out again."

Snow set down her coffee, looking alarmed. "Going out? Where?"

Emma attempted a smile, but effected a grimace. "To terrorize Mr. Gold, this time. Don't worry, I'll be back..."

Rule #1: Terrorizing Regina with a yellow VW Bug is not a sport.